


Trapdoor

by dannissa



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Decisions, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, Fingerfucking, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Bondage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Smoking, Suicide Attempt, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 12:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12864903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannissa/pseuds/dannissa
Summary: Every single day you regret things you’ve done to yourself and to the others. This doesn’t help, but you still do. The only person who doesn’t deserve what they have is your accidental fling, neighbor, and husband of your best friend. And you are tangled in this mess, the mess you’ve caused yourself. Only time will tell what happens next.





	Trapdoor

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I was writing this thing for about six months and finally finished it, while participating in NaNoWriMo. My main inspiration came from the cult ending, but this version is more of a headcanon than AU, so just have that in mind. Does not contain actual cults of any kind, just a bunch of really unhealthy people.
> 
> Both Joseph and Robert are morally grey, and Rob is unreliable narrator because of his involvement and self-loathing. 
> 
> If you liked my work, please leave me kudos and comments, don't be shy, I'll answer anything. Feedback truly means a lot to me. If you find any mistakes, please let me know, English is not my first language. Thank you.
> 
> My [Tumblr](https://dannissa13.tumblr.com/) if you want to speak to me and my [other](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannissa/works) works 
> 
> Huge props go to my beta, amazing Mio! Thank you for putting up with my bullshit! You are the best!
> 
> Also, I highly recommend checking out my music inspiration to get the full experience:  
> Tove Lo - Habits (Stay High) and Nine Inch Nails - Hurt. 
> 
> P.S. Mary deserves better than those two idiots. Drink responsibly and don't get involved in bad relationships. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Oh make it fast and greasy  
I'm numb and way too easy  
You're gone and I gotta stay high  
All the time to keep you off my mind

Staying in my play pretend  
Where the fun ain't got no end  
Can't go home alone again  
Need someone to numb the pain”

Joseph is always so nice. So polite, so pristine, so perfect. Wife, children, church activities - he is excelling at everything his hands' touch. Cool youth minister, yes, so wonderfully, unrealistically good you feel the desire to barf every time you see him.

Yes, the picture of Christiansen family is crisp and clean, the picture he painted, a reputation he expertly crafted from nothing. Mary is falling out of frame lately, a drunk mess of a woman, hitting on younger man in bars, but she's harmless. For now. You've known a different Mary, happy Mary, strong and confident, but then all have changed and she became what she is right now. Trying to help her will only hurt both of you more, so you just stay out of it as much as you can. It's a regular occurrence, you do more harm than good, messing everything up, so to do nothing with that is your only perfect choice. She has enough on her plate already and definitely doesn't need more. Her husband though is an entirely different story.

You've known them for quite a while now, before they had the youngest one, before things went south and never, in all those years, you've trusted Joseph. Able to see right through him, through that disguise he was wearing every day, through deceptive ways of his life, through lies he told and did. You knew that kind of person pretty well - manipulator, spider in a web of deceit and deception, his words like poison, his touch like a thousand knives. Nothing he did was openly bad, but not much is needed to corrupt someone if you know how. And, the sad thing is, you know people who are jealous of the life Christiansens have, even though anyone with a pair of working eyes can see how fake and fabricated their lives are.

At this point in time, your own life is pretty much fucked up utterly and completely, so you've decided to waste the rest of it away. Live fast, die young, that kind of shit. And it's not that hard to do, really. Just hate yourself and drink until you pass out. Don't forget drugs and promiscuity. Now you're all set for crashing and burning. Good job.

Mornings are your sworn enemy. Always have been. Hangovers, headaches, and strangers in your bed are a constant reminder of the choices you've made and failures that followed those choices. Consequences of this behavior are dire, loneliness and sadness are your best buddies, you never leave home without them. But this “no strings attached” thing works okay when you manage to get lost in it and not think about how miserable you really are. “It's good”, you say to yourself, “I'm good with how things are, I'm perfectly content.” That's a lie. A huge, steaming pile of certified bullshit you dump on yourself every time you need a quick pick-me-up. Delusional miserable dumb fuck, you probably deserve this. To be alone for the rest of the short ride you have left. Not to complain or anything. Just keep yourself busy and move on.

“Jim and Kim’s”, the usual place to be at in the evening, or all the time, depending on how the day went. The bar’s nice, not too clean nor too quiet, drinks are passable and with the Game occasionally on, it's almost perfect of a spot where one can get disgustingly drunk at and find somebody to fuck afterward. But not too often, you still have some semblance of standards. Today is “drinking and hooking” kind of day, your latest adventure into the unknown territory of debunking the goddamn idiotic Mothman existence was fruitless and the new wood carving didn't come out right. The only coping method you know is hitting the bottle repeatedly until you feel better emotionally and worse physically. So let's get this party started.

It's your third whiskey already when Mary stumbles into the bar. After exchanging a few words with Neil, the overly friendly bartender slash owner of the establishment, she gets her fix of wine and comes to your corner.

\- “Good to see ya, sailor. You look like shit. What's the deal?”

You give her the lopsided smirk.

\- “The usual. How's the paradise?”

She's not happy with you asking, but Mary started this game of “make it even worse” and you're ready to participate.

\- “Everything's peachy, sweetheart. Just fucking peachy.”

Sardonic smile. None of us is happy with the current situation and it's not gonna get any better in the close future.

You're not usually the one who likes to reminisce about the past, but seeing her like this brings back some memories. You remember vividly that first time she shared with you things that her nice, good christian husband have said and done. Never really liked the guy, too squeaky clean of an image, not convincing at all, and when the red flags started popping one after another you've known that things went south for this family and will never be the same. Mary lied to herself for a while after the first close call, reluctant to see the truth, hoping she could change his ways, hoping the children can help, alas, her attempts at restoring something that was broken beyond repair were fruitless. Then she started to come here, joining you on a quest for detached drunken apathy. And you both have done well in that department.

Sitting in silence for a while she drinks and stares at the wall with a vacant expression, the glass in her hand clearly not the first one of the evening. Before all went to shit Mary was careful with this habit, never allowing day drinking, now she's thrown in the towel, starting at noon and passing out after several bottles in late night hours.

You drink too, sipping your whiskey slowly, bottle on the table almost half done, trying desperately not to think. Mary speaks first, voice low and sad.

\- “Why do I do this to myself, Rob? This shit is as horrible as it is endless. It's like I'm drowning in a tar pit and he stands on my head with both of his legs and laughs. How did this happen to me?”

Sighing, you finish the glass in one quick gulp and offer some wisdom on the matter of her question.

\- “You are not the one at fault here, love. This kind of mindset only makes the situation shittier. Stop blaming yourself, Mary. We both know you tried your hardest to live like a real family with that fucker.”

She finishes her glass and fills it almost to the brim with your whiskey, clear indication of a particularly bad day.

\- “I know. That's not helping. I'm so tired and empty. He did this to me. And I'm powerless to change that, I'm exhausted, I'm drained. I don't know what to do.”

Taking the vine class full of whiskey in one shot she pours both of you more, spilling it onto a table and your lap. Mary's drunk. She smiles maniacally, bringing the glasses together with a clink.

\- “I have a toast. Fuck everything, let's watch the world burn!”

And before you can say or do anything she dumps the liquor into her mouth. This is not gonna end well.

\- “Don't you want to slow down?”

\- “Hell no! Let's do another round! And share a blunt afterward. I have like two or something. One sec, lemme find them.”

Mary's slurs the words while frantically searching through her purse, leaving a pile of garbage on a table: crumpled paper and clumps of lint, candy wrappers, pencil shavings, coins. It's a mess.

You put your hands over hers, squeezing gently to get some attention. She's already crying, shaking and sobbing softly.

\- “Mary, let's go home. Betsy will be happy to see you.”

Her tearful eyes glimmer as you stand up and offer Mary a hand like a goddamn gentleman. She's on her feet, shoving trash back into that purse of hers and you walk out after waving goodbye to Neil and taking the almost finished bottle with you.

The walk is brisk, cool air gives you chills, clearing your head and giving a new perspective. Mary stumbles a little but holds herself like a champ. She's determined to finish your damn bottle so you decide to do that yourself, chugging it straight and fast while hearing her laughing at you.

When you approach cul-de-sac alcohol sinks in and the world starts to spin around slowly. Regrets will come later, whiskey makes staff better for a moment. Mary walks faster, passing by your house and going towards her own. That's confusing. You run up to her, only being able to catch up on the porch of Christiansen's home. She's trying to unlock the door, keys jangling and rattling, making a whole lot of noise. With a loud clink they drop to the ground and as she goes to pick them up door opens with Joseph standing in the doorway.

\- “Hi, honey. Did you have a good time? Come in quick, it's chilly outside, you might catch a cold.”

Her expression changes when she hears Joseph's voice. It's like watching a life drain out of dying animal. With one swift move, he wraps his arms around her shoulders and escorts Mary in. You feel anger boiling inside your soul. That foul rotten fuck doesn't deserve her. It's a snap decision but you make it anyway.

\- “Joseph! Hey!”

\- “Good evening, Robert. I'm sorry, didn't see you there, in the dark. You blend in pretty well. How's it going?”

\- “We need to talk! Now”

\- “Let me just take care of my wife and we'll discuss whatever you want in the morning.”

\- “No, we gonna do it now. Right fucking now.”

He sighs with a face of someone who's concerned and a little disappointed.

\- “Mary, sweetheart, go to bed, I'll be there in a moment. Don't worry, we'll be civilized and just gonna talk.”

She disappears inside the house immediately and Joseph closes the door behind him, stepping outside. His voice is soft, hands crossed on the chest as he leans on the wall with one shoulder.

\- “What did you want to talk about, Robert? Something’s concerning you? You could've waited until I'm in church and we would’ve talked about it. I'll try my best to help you. So, what's on your mind?”

Disgusting. This play he puts on every time he opens his foul mouth. Anger rises inside you like a tidal wave, like a rage tsunami that drowns your mind completely. No way of controlling one's actions after that, only thin slither of hope that you won't actually kill each other right here right now.

\- “You can drop the act now. We're alone, no one to impress here.”

He chuckles softly, then makes a pouty disappointed face but keeps silent and it's your tipping point. Oh, trying not to yell full volume at him is so impossibly hard at this moment. So you spit on the ground and continue

\- “You are as fake as they get. Nothing about you is genuine, this sweet artificial facade, I can see right through it. What's your game, fucker?”

\- “Such a foul mouth you have, my dear Robert. Not a good role model are you? But, knowing the way you operate one can assume that your language will be heavily laced with cursing.”

Unbelievable. Just un-fucking-believable! This goddamn asshole has some nerve.

\- “You're such a rotten cunt, Joseph. It's like you have a fucking stick up your ass or something. A gargantuan prick with no human decency whatsoever. I wish to never have known you!”

\- “Well, you do know me, dearie. Some might even say that we're close. Closer than they can imagine. And you also know there is no stick up my ass. Right now at least. But we can change that, can we?”

Everything goes red. You're not in control after that but what happens next is no surprise. You swing a fist at Joseph's face, full force, no pulling back, completely ignoring the promise you made to Mary. Shit just got real. This will wipe the triumphant smile off his face.

Your first blow lands successfully and will probably end up bruising Joseph's cheekbone. Next one isn't so on par. He just dodges your swing with ease. For a split second there you think about pulling out the knife and ending this for good and Joseph, as if reading your mind, grabs your arm and bends it behind your back while pushing you face first into his home’s facade. That hurts quite a lot and there's a possibility of knocked out teeth but you dismiss it for now. That fucker just completely obliterated you in a brawl goddamnit and it's ridiculous. Your pride is in shambles.

He's pressing into you with the whole weight of his body, effectively rendering you completely helpless and unable to fight back. Joseph's face is so close to your’s that you can feel his warm, moist breath, fresh with mint, for the first time in quite a while. He almost nuzzles you, lips touching the curve of your ear, and softly whispers, thinly veiled threat in the tone of voice, every word dripping with poison

\- “Trying to get busy tonight, Rob? You should have called me first if you wanted to have a chance at having some of this.”

With those words Joseph grinds his pelvis into your ass, his free hand finding its way under your jacket. You feel him palming your pockets and taking your trusty knife, dropping it on the ground

\- “You're not gonna be needing this, sweetie. I'll take care of you. But you should've taken me out for dinner before any advances. Oh, what happened to chivalry?”

His knee is between your legs now, kicking them apart, while he's essentially groping you, the palm of his hand on your chest snaking to the stomach. When it reaches your belt you buck wildly and hiss out

\- “You've won. Point is proven, I'm humiliated, now let me go, you sick prick!”

\- “Oh, but I like playing with my food, so why should I. Maybe, just maybe, if you ask me nicely, I'll consider it.”

Motherfucker. He's fucking joking, isn't he? This is degrading enough without the need to beg for mercy. Collecting yourself takes a few long moments but you manage, barely. Your voice is hoarse and strained and you hate him for making you do this.

\- “Please, Joseph, let me go. I'm not gonna do anything funny. Just leave me alone, please.”

\- “Good boy. You can go now but remember - if you try this again I'm not going to let you off the hook that easily. Move it.”

He let's go of you and steps back while you try and fix your things and take back the knife. You don't look at him passing by to stand outside his door and you don't turn around when he calls you again, presumably just to taunt you again. Just keep moving, walk it off.

You don't really know whether to thank the Lord above for such a short walk home or to curse him for putting damn Christiansens right next to you. Joseph is probably watching you stumble into your home, snickering, proud of his victory, that bastard. Fuck him and his stupid face. Son of a bitch. Keys keep slipping out of your grasp, you can't seem to find the hole of a lock and when it finally clicks you've already lost all of your patience and also balance, so instead of entering your house like a regular person with even a sliver of dignity you just fall in, face first, on the floor. A fitting ending to this night, yeah.

The first thing that comes to mind after getting up and closing the door behind you is to get a drink. Or a few. But, better paraphrased - you should get shitfaced all over again right this instant. Betsy happily lunges herself at you, so excited and full of life it's impossible not to pet her and cuddle her and play with her a little. She had never done anything bad to you so she shouldn't be the one you take it out on. After good ten minutes of dog love, you don't feel as devastatingly shitty as you did before but things are still looking pretty bad. Stumbling to the bathroom through piles of dog toys, old papers and empty beer cans and liquor bottles you shed most of your clothes off, taking them with you to throw into the laundry mountain. It was a pile once and you're pretty sure that somewhere underneath all of that dirty duds you can find a hamper which does nothing to contain this monstrosity.

You splash some cold water on your face and look in the mirror to assess the damages. The fresh bruise on the cheekbone, dangerously close to being a black eye, grown out stubble, bags under the eyes and general fatigued expression. You feel old. And you look old. That doesn't make things better. At least your face is clean now, after an impromptu washing, but that's the best of it. Doesn't help with feeling like shit though.

What are you supposed to do now? Nothing? Just leave this alone, don't make any noise about it? That's exactly what he wants and you won't give him the satisfaction. Fuck no, he'll get what's coming to him and you'll deliver that. Vile, worthless, arrogant prick! You'll get your way with him, for sure. But not right now, because the world just went from spinning lightly like a carousel to a full on roller coaster. Everything's blurry and unfocused, luckily, Betsy knows not to get in your way when you're so blitzed so you won't stumble over your dog like some kind of a moronic dickhead.

Going upstairs to the bedroom is a task for brave and stupid and you are both right now. Steps are hard, so you crawl using both your hands and knees, that's not your first rodeo. Falling down the stairs is way more painful if you were standing up than on all fourth. Also, it always confuses the living shit outta your dog which is funny as hell, at least at the moment. The wooden floor is nice and chilly and you contemplate staying down there for the rest of the night basking in pleasant coolness. Dirty sock laying next to your face changes the situation so you finally plop into the bed not bothering to straighten up crumpled sheets.

Laying on your back completely naked and blankly staring at the white ceiling, illuminated by streetlights coming through the window, you forgot to close the curtains again, dammit, you're thinking about when all of it went to shit. You knew the new neighbors a bit, small family, young child, newborn twins, sweet people. At least the lady was sweet, a little sassy at times, but nice, hearty type of woman you have always liked. Her husband seemed odd though, somewhat off-beat, and generally had kinda weird vibe about him. But harmless, of course, he was harmless. Then. They are religious people you told yourself, it's okay for them to be a touch kooky, look no further than yourself for example. You're a weirdo and people seem to be fine with that. So you gradually befriend them both, mostly Mary of course, because of her winning personality, but her husband too. And after a few months, it starts. First, the small signs - glances he threw you when he thought you won't notice, accidental touches, flattery, overly friendly conversations. Then, a little down the line, it became more and more obvious that Joseph was flirting with you. Subtly and carefully and not seriously at all, he couldn't possibly mean it, could he? The answer to that question came later with more bold moves from Joseph's side.

It happened unexpectedly but looking at the situation now it's clear that everything was coming to this: both of them, sitting in the bar, drunk, Joseph opening up about how shitty he felt for a long time and how he failed his wife and how helpless he felt. And all of that mirrored your own pain perfectly. Two people with way to similar stories, similar loneliness, hurting inside but keeping the guard up. Cracks in his facade were perfect image of yours, deep and spreading. He seemed so genuine that fateful, cursed evening, so truthful, so raw and real. You shouldn't have empathized with him so much, but it was exactly what you wanted to hear and Joseph gave you this. He was especially good at telling people what they wanted to hear and giving them that image of himself created in someone else's head.

All of this was a huge, huge mistake, the kind you contemplate for the rest of your life in a variety of “what if” scenarios at nights, before finally shutting the brains down. You've made several of those, enough to keep you up forever. You shouldn't have let him get this close to you, you shouldn't have done any of that shit. But you leaned in the same time Joseph did, and you let yourself loose, not really realizing when the kiss started in a fuzzy, blurry, sickly state of drunkenness and what seemed like mutual understanding of each other's inner demons at the time. It was wet and sloppy, relaxed, almost like he did this before, like it wasn't the first time “Mr. Perfection” tongued somebody else except his wife. You should've noticed that. You should've known.

Clothing was flying on the floor the second you cross the doorway. Joseph's lips on yours, his tongue ravishing your mouth, his fingers pulling on your hair as you try to undress both of you without breaking the contact. Shedding garments like your life depends on it, you move to the bedroom trying not to make a lot of noise - having a puppy has some downsides and one of them is loud yapping when you're trying to get laid. Thankfully, she's sleeping and both of you are pretty stealthy for being completely hammered. You slam Joseph's back against the wall, and let your hands lose, groping every inch of skin you can find. He doesn't seem to mind that, clinging to you, clutching your shoulders, pressing himself into your touch.

You went commando today and that catches him off guard, his hand directly on your hard cock when he unzips your jeans to palm at your crotch. You feel sweet pulsation of arousal build up and groan when his fingers reluctantly start to move up and down, the amount of friction not enough to satisfy but enough to tease. Pulling Joseph's pants down isn't that difficult when he cooperates and shimmies out of them, now only in a pair of tight boxers, fully hard, fabric wet where the tip touches it.

Pushing him on the bed is easy and he lands with a surprised huff, relaxing almost immediately. You follow, looming over him, taking the image in. Joseph's skin is so pale where sun wasn't touching it, stark contrast with yours, his tan lines visible and flush strong, blood rushing up and giving a bright pink hue to the flesh. Face, chest, thighs, you're not sure whether to find that cute and endearing or to mock this little princess, blushing like a bride on the wedding day. The last piece of fabric separating you has to go now, so you slide down kissing his skin raw, leaving marks to show off, biting, licking and mounting everything you can reach. Joseph’s ragged breathing is only ebbing you on, giving you a good idea to execute immediately. Biting into elastic band of his underwear, you pull down, revealing his erection and looking up to marvel at Joseph’s surprises expression, mix of concern and astoundment. Cheek on his inner thigh, you lay for a second eyeing the piece of work you’ll have to tackle, his strained, painfully hard cock and that makes you excited. This will be a workout and your mouth is watering.

Sucking him isn’t that hard with little sensitivity to your extremities you have left, thank the Lord for booze. He’s pretty big, heavy against your tongue, probably nine inches of straight hard flesh in your mouth. You lick him gently first, teasing, from the base, lathering shaft with saliva to aid you later in taking it in. Head of his cock is already swollen, angry red, leaking. You taste him with a tip of tongue only, lapping sensitive slit, making Joseph’s shudder and clench fabric under his palms. You don’t touch his dick with your hands, instead going for petting thighs and lower stomach, fondling tightened scrotum, rolling his balls in it. His muscles stiffen up and bulge underneath all that silky skin, Joseph is moaning, voice rough, strained, grabbing the back of your neck, digging his fingernails into the base of your skull, nudging you to pull him into your mouth already. That makes you chuckle. The answer comes with another groan

\- “Stop tormenting me, you succubus.”

\- “Well, then, you probably should ask me nicely, if you want me to do something for you.”

With that, you blow a huff of air onto his wet head making him twitch. He murmurs the answer inaudibly so you bite his hip a little, raking your teeth, leaving marks.

\- “Louder.”

\- “P-please, take me…”

Oh, that’s sweet. He’s shy about it, hiding his face from your gaze, averting his eyes. You suck his head gently, bobbing your head slowly, each time lowering yourself a bit more until his cock is fully in your mouth and you look upwards at him, smirking. He’s bested, he’ll come undone under your touch.

Deepthroating was never your forte but you try anyways, groaning as you go down, pushing the gag reflex back, swallowing him. Joseph’s moaning, bucking into you, trashing against the mattress, muscles tense and skin sweaty. That’s awfully arousing so you give it another go, getting yourself another mouthful and another throaty moan. His head bumps bluntly again the back of your throat and you gag just a little, enough to cause more groans and whines. You are so insanely hard, spilling pre-come on your own thighs, drooling as you try and keep him as deep inside your mouth as he can go. Moving is difficult, you have to swallow every time you go down, nosing his pubic hair, making him gasp and writhe. Slurping hard when you go up, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him faster and faster you bring him closer and closer to climax but don’t consider letting him off as an option. When he grows larger and harder against your tongue you let his cock out with loud pop and shoot Joseph a devilish smile. He’s whimpering at the loss of sensation but you don’t let him suffer for long.

Rising up, bodies flush against each other you dive for a kiss the second your faces meet. He doesn’t move away, intertwining his tongue with yours, reciprocating. You grind hard into his lap and moan openly not able to stop kissing him. He lifts his hips to retaliate, and you rub against each other like horny teens, breathing heavily. Lucky, alcohol gives you the stamina boost, so you're not afraid to finish too early. He’s slick with you spit and so hot against you, making you nearly delirious.

\- “Fuck, I want you so badly.”

You're fingers trace the round ass and tensed thighs, before you grope and spread his cheeks a bit, making him shiver. You have to ask him, you need to know if Joseph is ready.

\- “Do you want to keep going?”

He looks a little confused, nodding timidly, puzzled by your proposition.

\- “Say it. I wanna hear those words.”

He gives up pretty easily, dropping the shyness and simply stating

\- “I want you. Inside me. Fuck me, Robert.”

Your head swims a little upon hearing that, him saying it so boldly yet casually. To say you’re excited is to say nothing. Those few seconds you don’t touch his body are spent grabbing supplies from the nightstand. Settling down between his spread out legs you drop your possessions down to shower Joseph with attention, making him breathless as you run your fingers and mouth over his skin. Covering your digits with lube is a well-practiced action and you’re ready to start stretching him before he is. Gel warms up on your skin quickly and when you first trace the finger pads between his cheeks Joseph’s gasping. You brush gently against his hole, tightly squeezed, for now, all the way up to the taint. Every go is more daring, pushing against the ring of muscle until you’re in.

When the first finger enters his body fully Joseph whimpers and clenches around it, tossing his head, blond hair fanning out on the pillow. You put your mouth on him again, getting to work, sucking his cock more earnestly this time around. Every bob of your head synced with a pump of finger into his hole and soon he’s ready to take another. Scissoring two of them, you go harder on Joseph’s dick and fall into the rhythm easily. He’s asking for more, trying to meet your movement, chasing more and more pleasure.

Everything screams “he is not a first timer”, especially when Joseph pushes himself against three of your fingers and openly moans when they brush against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him. You forcefully push into his body, nudging that sweet spot over and over again and seeing his face scrunch before Joseph's mouth falls into perfect “o” as he gasps with your every move. You don't really wanna make him sore with all these thrusts, but the soft noises he makes are addictive. You kiss him open mouthed and sloppily, pumping fast and hard, fingerfucking him into the near oblivion. He’s crying out, close again so you withdraw as soon as you see him spurt pre over his stomach. Stretched out enough to take you, he is ready.

Rolling the condom on is more difficult with hands shaking from anticipation but you manage to do it properly. Pressing yourself against his hole you push gently, cock almost ready to burst even before you’re in. Velvety walls clench against your head and you can't move for a good few seconds, him being so tight it nearly hurts. You ease his body into it, stroking him gently, rubbing circles into wet head of his cock, playing with the slit, sliding your calloused thumb over it, gathering the pre-come, making him flatter around you. Joseph needs time to loosen even a little before you can actually start moving. His insides are scorching hot, spasming hard as you pump his cock faster, distracting his attention from uncomfortable burn of a stretch. When he’s finally ready you take your time, slowly rocking into him, picking up speed slowly, building that sweet blooming feeling in your groin, not wanting to spend yourself too quickly. You have a partner to please after all.

Sounds of two bodies colliding, wet and loud in silence of the night, panting, gasps and grunts fill the room as you go faster, lifting Joseph’s pelvis off the bed, for better angle, pushing deeper inside, hitting his prostate, grinding into it, making him whine. It’s pure lust now, as both of you start climbing up, him meeting your thrust, riding your cock from underneath you. You pound Joseph into the bed, giving him the fucking of his life. He’s sounding more and more desperate, clutching your back and crying out for harder, faster, more. You’re happy to oblige, ruthless rhythm making him clench around you even more.

\- “So fucking tight for me! So good!”

\- “Fuck me, harder, please, Robert I’m so close.”

And so you do, frantically rutting into him, pace is unbearable and too much. He tenses, the whole body going stiff, nails ripping skin off your back, scratching until blood shows, convulsing and screaming, cock spurting cum all over his stomach and chest, orgasming so hard he nearly passes out. You fuck him through it, gritting your teeth and biting your lips, but follow anyway, his twitching tight hole almost drags you climax out of you. Exhausted, you barely manage to pull out and collapse beside panting Joseph, removing and tying up the used rubber, tossing it on a floor. It’s tomorrow’s Robert business to clean that up, now it’s just a sweaty hug for you, in which you pull Joseph before blacking out completely.

And when you wake up in an empty bed, his smell on your pillow and sheets, your head hurting and spinning, body aching from overexertion, mouth dry and tasting like death that familiar feeling of overwhelming sickness bubbles up to the surface and you get hit by a realization of what you just did. That's a mistake, gigantic unfixable mistake. You fucked up for good this time. How are you gonna look Mary in the eye now? And Joseph? He just straight up left. What's that supposed to mean now? The only conclusion your foggy mind could make is that you should never ever do this again, under no circumstances. Never.

You meet him next week and fuck on his boat, passionately and slowly, him screaming your name as he comes. That's a mistake too. And then again, in the back of your car. And again, in your house, and again and again and again. You keep coming to him even though you know it's wrong and doesn't even try to keep track of how many times and where the two of you fuck. You stop talking to him outside your meetings, you resent yourself and Joseph for doing this, you hate this liaison yet you can't stop. Joseph gradually changes, not in a good way. He’s cold and distant, pretending around others to be perfectly well but more of that anger rises up when you’re together.

You try your best to avoid his wife, drinking at home or driving somewhere, not able to confront her or even see her. She comes to you herself when you’re too drunk to react quickly and pretend you’re not home. The conversation starts casually but comes around pretty fast, and you spill the truth. Mary gives you disheartened look. She says she knew the moment it happened. She always knew when he would go to other men. They can't afford to move once again, they’ve only just settled. That confirms your worst thoughts on this manner - you’re not the first nor you the last in this strain of side affairs Joseph had. Asking how many times they had to move is off the table but you’re horrified with a thought that she had been through it not one time and you’re the person who betrayed her here. This is your lowest moment, the shittiest you’ve ever felt in your life. You backstabbed your friend and ruined your friendship completely. That night you’re trying to drink yourself to death and the next day yell nonsense at Joseph while hungover, spewing curses and anger and trying to punch him for the first time. Afterwards, Mary asks you not to make this type of scene ever again and all you feel goes on a down low.

You mutual resentment with Joseph grows into a disdain than into pure hatred and now you see him fully, in his true colors. Manipulating, lying vile scum, sick self-centered bastard. He doesn’t deserve his wife or his life. You cut him off completely, ripping everything that connected you, not giving him the last goodbyes. You are done.

And with Mary, your heart bleeds each time you bump into each other. You've ruined her life, you've busted open the Pandora’s box and now everything is destroyed at your hands. You start smoking twice as much and she drinks wine like it's water. You don't talk at first, but the more power hungry and deranged he gets, the more both of you need each other's support. Mary cracks first, crying into your shoulder that night, and giving you completely undeserved forgiveness. You hate yourself even more for letting her but stay beside and support her to the best of your abilities. Joseph integrated well into this community, good liars are always like this. You wonder sometimes why won’t Mary leave him, just take the kids and bale out, but she’s silent on this matter and you don’t push it. Peace between you is still fragile.

Time passes and here you are, the destructive moron who’s ruined not only his life but the lives of others. On the same damn bed, probably on the same set of sheets, where you fucked like rabbits, hard and fast, and still thinking about that goddamn asshole. You can’t get him out of your head, like a tumor, like cancer eating at your thoughts when you’re alone in your bedroom. So you’re almost never alone, taking strangers with you, getting so wasted you can’t think or just running to the places that don’t remind you of him.

This is not living, you stuck in a perpetual loop of avoidance and it’s not working. Mary is unhappy, you don’t really remember what happy even is and that fucker flourishes and grows stronger with every passing day. He wants you both like this, he’s winning at this game. Every good person is miserable and that’s not fucking fair. Maybe, just maybe, you should lift your ass up and finally do something about this mess. With that determined thought, you pass out to be awoken in the morning by Betsy licking your face. You let her out to run it the yard, fix yourself the strongest cup of coffee possible and start to think. The idea comes after the third mug of bitter bean juice. You are neighbors, right? The equipment you use to track the Dover Ghost and other cryptids are working perfectly, so if you find sufficient dirt on that fucker Mary can finally divorce his ass and move on with her life. At least one person will be less miserable.

You dress and pack your shit hastily, leave your dog food and water, let her in and tell her you’ll come back soon. She’s not happy to see you go, but you can’t have her on semi-stealthy mission. Christiansen’s house is one hedge fence away and you have some laws to break. Binoculars help you determine that no one’s home and you proceed with caution, climbing over the way people won’t be able to see you from the street. Almost crawling on your hands and knees, you hide behind the house finding what you need eventually - the opened window that leads you to the kitchen. Landing softly on your feet, you look around confirming the absence of any living soul but still tread carefully.

Nosing around the rooms you don’t hear any warning sounds, don’t see Joseph appearing out of thin air behind you, don’t notice that he’d being inside this whole time. The only thing you feel is that blow to the head with something blunt and heavy before passing out.

Coming back to your scenes is hard, your poor head is splitting with pain and eyes hurting from blinding light shining right into your face. Joseph’s looming over you, baseball bat in one hand, other on his hip. You are so fucked. And can’t really move. This asshole tied you up, just like he did a few times when you still fucked. His brows are furrowed and impression is completely unamused. Your hands are bound behind your back and thin rope, tying the wrists together, is looped around your neck in a way that it’ll choke you if you’d try to get yourself free.

\- “Good morning, Robert. What are you doing in my house?”

\- “Trespassing.”

\- “More like breaking and entering. So let me repeat my question. What are you doing here?”

He's taller than you, with long legs and toned torso, a bit lean, but muscles bulge under the soft pale skin when he moves around, showing strength he possesses in the moments when physical work is needed. You're bulkier and probably tougher yet after seeing what Joseph can do any desire to oppose and lock horns with him is gone. There is no need for new scars, you already have plenty. He is smiling but it’s fake and full of badly controlled contempt.

\- “So, yes, it’s sweet you’ve finally paid me a visit, but I’ve asked you about something, would you kindly answer me, sweetness?”

\- “You won't fool me with your charm, Joseph. So either fuck off with that crap or cut to the chase!”

\- “Not in a good mood, are we? Well, I had something in mind for you, sweetie, but it'll wait for now. Maybe I should just call the police on you and tell them what you were trying to do?”

\- “And what’s that? Snooping around? I’ll tell them Mary asked me for help and she’ll back me up. It’s two words against one, and how are you going to explain this”

With those words you wriggle in your bonds slightly, trying not to strangle yourself. He sighs. You've defeated him. Yes! But the celebration of your unexpected victory is too early, expression on Joseph’s face changing from annoyed irritation to diabolical smirk. Fuck, what now?

\- “Boo, you whоre. Ruining all the fun. Let the man live a little.”

\- “You call this living? Sucking the life out of your wife, cheating on her at every moment you can, breaking her heart. How dare you even be close to her!”

You snare and buck wildly, trying to kick him, and when you manage to pull that off without suffocating on a tight rope around your throat he looks almost hurt by the fact of your struggle.

\- “This is none of your business, Rob. Why do you even care, tossing people aside is the most casual thing for you? Also, thank you for kicking me, it’ll bruise now and I have a challenging day tomorrow. You’re an ass, with this “white knight” bullshit.”

Upset and disheartened, just the way you want him to be. Good, it’s his turn to feel like shit.

\- “You just called me a whore, fucker, what was I supposed to do, take it?”

\- “Oh, sorry, dear, I was wrong. Whores get paid. You're a slut. And you never had any problems with taking it, aren't you?”

Slap in the face, figurative, but the literal one follows soon when Joseph yanks you up by the tied up hand and drags your body up the stairs, while you try to struggle. To the master bedroom, you realize with twinge of fear, he’s taking you there. Why? What the hell?

Throwing your body on the floor with no regard to the fact you land on tied hands and that hurts a bunch, Joseph drops the bat and locks the door. You try to scramble away from him, hitting that hurting noggin of yours on the foot of huge king size bed and hiss in pain. He approaches, slowly and menacingly, clearly up to no good. Whatever he’s planning on doing with you will get you no mercy. This is terrifying, you and this psycho in a locked room with some weapons inside. You think about not getting out in one piece for a second and hope Mary and the kids would come back soon. Like reading your mind he says softly, ominously

\- “They’re not coming for a few hours, Rob. There’s no one to help you. You’re mine and I’ll do with you as I please. Just the way you do with others.”

Your heart drops. It’s a death sentence.

\- “I’ll scream!”

\- “We both know you won’t. To prideful and arrogant to ask for help. Or for anything at all.”

You try as hard as you can to control your breathing and fight the panic back. He’s terrifying like this, cold, detached and determined to hurt you. He wants you to be scared, he wants to control you, he wants to have all the power over you.

He closes the gap between your bodies, towering over you for a second, then squatting to rummage through your pockets until he takes your knife. Again. But this time he’s not tossing it aside mindlessly, now he’s gonna use it on you.

\- “Just do it already, you fucker! You dumb sick animal! Kill me! You’ll rot in jail for the rest of your pathetic life!”

He looks shocked by your words, hurt, torn up.

\- “I wasn’t going to do that, Rob. Who do you think I am? Some kind of a psychotic murderer? After all this time you still don’t know me.”

He yanks the rope on your neck, lifting you up a bit, voice full of raw anger.

\- “Well, you think wrong. I’ll do to you the same thing you did to me. I’ll use you like a dirty little slut you are and then toss you to the curb. You’ll know exactly what I felt.”

And just like that realization hits you harder than any words can. You are definitely, absolutely, really and quite literally fucked now. And he’s going to fuck you. Your whole body goes limp while he’s trying to pull your clothes off of you, deciding after a bit of rustling to just use his hands to shred your shirt in half, leaving your torso naked underneath ripped fabric and leather jacket. Then it’s time for your jeans to go, buttons flying and zipper torn out, your lower half now exposed, not counting the boxers you miraculously wore today. He lifts you up like a feather, like you weigh nothing, dropping you in the same uncomfortable pose on the mattress, making sure landing is painful.

When you struggle and try to knock a few of Joseph’s teeth out by kicking him in the face he simply grabs both of your ankles and presses his knees into the calfs, rendering your legs mostly useless. You left your shoes in the kitchen, just in case you’d need to be sneaky and are now laying on your back in nothing but ripped clothes and pair of socks and underwear, which goes next. While he pulls those off you start struggling again, almost like waking up from a nightmare. He chuckles

\- “Don't make me give you a Holy Spirit fuck.”

\- “W-what?!”

\- “It's when there's no lube and you pray to the Holy Spirit that it works, babe.”

\- “No, you’ll tear me!”

\- “If you don't behave, I most definitely will.”

So you go silent and docile, letting him do whatever he desires. The sooner he gets what wants, the sooner this will end.

Joseph’s touches are gentle compared to his words, fingers tracing your chest and stomach, light, feathery, tickling a little. He’s sitting on your lap, legs holding yours, while he undresses himself, pulling his polo off and lifting up too hastily discard the pants and underwear. Barefoot and fully naked he’s still as beautiful as the first time you’ve seen him in this way, but now this beauty is tainted and menacing. He crawls back, covering your body again and presses his lips against yours, so softly and genuinely, in any other settings you might’ve thought he’s actually in love with you. You don’t know what’s scarier - this or the knife and the bat. Not opening your mouth when he licks at your lower lip, not giving the satisfaction of letting him in is a huge risk.

He doesn’t seem to mind your lack of retaliation, enjoying things as they are. Playing with your nipples, mouthing your neck, rubbing himself against you. He’s semi-hard, clearly liking the show. That makes bile rise in your throat, bitter and sickly. You turn your face away, not giving him the what he wants - to see you broken down. Joseph stops and sits up, looking at you intently, then grabs your chin and turns your head to meet his eyes. He doesn’t seem to be happy about your reaction to his actions, expression concerned and forehead scrunched.

\- “You are a broken man, Robert. Broken, pitiful and miserable. And you make people around you the same way as you are. You deserve things that happen to you but I’m not the one who’s gonna deliver all of them. You’ve hurt me countless times, you’ve ruined me and you’ve used me. You tell people things about me that are not necessarily true. You’re drunk most of the times I see you and you pulled my wife into that too. I have all the reasons to do this and I want to, yet not like this. You’ve lost the fight without ever putting it up, you gave up immediately and I don’t think I know you anymore. And I don’t think you know me. So if you want me too, I’ll let you go and we’ll be silent about it, never to speak on that ever again.”

\- “How in the hell did I use you, Joseph? What is this bullshit you’re spewing? Your wife this, your wife that. You don’t give two shits about Mary, you only care about yourself. All self-righteous, Lord and fucking savior, man of faith my ass. Just do what you’re gonna do or fuck all the way off.”

\- “How, you ask!? You seduced me, used my body and left me! You stopped talking to me for crying out loud but still shoved your dick into me. That’s fucked up, Rob, and you know that. Any relationships you have are instantly sabotaged by your behavior towards others, by that disinterested attitude you have, treating people like they’re nothing. And you never even acknowledge this, you think this is an okay thing to do. Maybe my pre-existing marital problems are my problems and I’ll work them out with my wife who is under your damn bad influence, how about this?!”

\- “Okay, listen, just because I own a watch don't assume I have fucking time for this bullshit. I have no idea what do you want from me and I don’t want to deal with your baggage and issues. We are adults, we fucked, that ruined relationships we had, now everything’s bad. The end of story. Now please, fuck off.”

\- “Adults don’t run from their problems, Rob. They face them. This is why I’m so angry with you. All you say is childish and angsty and hardly makes sense. You could’ve talked to me like an adult you claim to be, you could’ve told me the first time that it was a one time thing, you could’ve done so many things yet ultimately you’ve decided to shrug me off and break my heart. That hurt, Rob, badly. And I still can’t get over you, I still struggle, I cannot repair what you’ve shattered inside me.”

\- “Can’t get over me? You’ve tormented me for all this time, did all this bullshit and now playing the victim. You’re crazy, Joseph. This is stupid.”

\- “Yes, I can’t get you out of my thoughts. I want you, I cannot have you, and every time I approach you it’s like walking on broken glass. Who’s tormenting who?”

\- “Wait, are you serious? So, you acting like a maniac around me is all my fault because I’ve been an ass to you? This is how you’re justifying your behavior?! Really?”

\- “I clearly have issues too, but don’t you dare act like you’re not at fault here. None of you accepted me, all the guys I’ve slept with, and when I hoped you were the person finally genuinely invested in me you screwed me over and just left, saying nothing. I seriously considered suicide at one point. See, that’s what you do to people. You break them because you’re broken yourself and you can’t stand no one who’s not.”

\- “You tried to kill yourself? When?”

\- “A few months after you dumped me. I took pills, a lot of them. Mary found me, I lied about miscalculating the amount I’ve taken. She drove me to a hospital and kept the situation on the down low.”

Somewhere around that time, Mary came to you and you’ve talked for the first time after you’ve started avoiding her. The night she forgave you and cried her eyes out on your shoulder, Joseph was in hospital because of you. Shit.

\- “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

\- “I know. Let me untie you and leave. I feel better now and we finally talked like people should. Sorry for the clothes.”

He lifts up, flips you on your stomach and after a few pulls of the rope, you’re free. The things he said linger, though, and as you rub your wrists and flex your fingers, trying to get sensitivity back into them you look at his hunched back, him sitting on the bed, eying the floor. Before you can say anything he goes

\- “This was a mistake. I’m sorry I did this to you. I’m so angry and sad all the times I see you. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I deeply regret this.”

You come closer to see him crying. He is now as broken as you are. You pull your jacket off and throw it on the floor, the rest of your shirt too and sit beside him, pulling his upper body into a side-hug. He’s sobbing into your neck, shaking, tears rolling down. You gently pet Joseph’s head, his back, fingers on smooth bare skin and he lifts up his face and presses his lips to yours. This time you kiss him back, chaste and light, soft and gentle. When he pulls away his face is shocked, one hand covering his mouth.

\- “I’m sorry, I should’ve done that. It’s a mistake, I’m…”

\- “Everything is a mistake, Joseph. Let’s make this one together.”

And you pull him into another slow sweet kiss, tongues intertwining, breaths mixing and hands caressing each other. Pace changes when after pulling away once again he puts his mouth on yours, biting softly, deepening the kiss, stroking your thighs and the back of your neck, going from gentle reconciliation to a heated steamy roll in the hay. You go with it, after all, this bizarre situation can’t get any weirder or worse than it already was. Joseph is still attractive to you, and now knowing that he’s obsessed with you the way you obsessed with him and all this time he couldn’t let you go either is oddly reassuring. You trouble his mind the way he troubles yours.

He pushes you back gently, and after some repositioning, you lay underneath him again, not threatened this time around. Hands on his sides, mouth on his mouth, bodies pressed together. When you squeeze his cheeks and pull them apart Joseph softly moans into the kiss and you don’t expect him to roll both of you over and grab your ass instead. He responds to your cocked eyebrow with blunt

\- “My turn.”

And gropes you tighter. You shrug. Why not? Everything else is upside down, why should this be an exception.

His fingers trace the cleft of your ass, while he dives to bite your neck and lick up to your ear, whispering hotly

\- “Top drawer, to your left. You know what to look for.”

\- “Can’t you maybe do it yourself?”

\- “Nope, my hands are busy.”

He smacks your ass saying that. You snort. Lube and one stray condom are exactly where he told and you waste no time grabbing them. Joseph lathers his fingers before going any further and presses the middle over your entrance. You try to relax but wince anyway, being penetrated is an unfamiliar feeling to you.

He’s careful, sliding one finger in and out of you, cooing sweet nothing, peppering your face and neck with kisses. Uncomfortable pressure subsides, leaving you wanting more contact, deeper and harder. Joseph adds the second finger, scissoring them inside you, twisting his wrist a little, knuckles stretching you mercilessly. Having almost no control over your expression, you give all modesty up and openly whimper while he moves. Mouth open, you fuck yourself on his digits, hands clutching bulging pectorals. He looks at you with a mix of lust and adoration

\- “I love it when you’re like this. So hot!”

\- “Don’t stop then.”

And Joseph takes that like a challenge. You’re breathless, three fingers inside you, and it’s so much yet so little at the same time.

\- “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

And he pushes your body up to make you straddle his chest, your hard dick in front of his face

\- “W-what are you doing?”

\- “Oh, I just wanted to return the favor. When you did this to me last time it was really nice. And like I said already - it’s my turn.”

With that, he gives the head of your cock a hefty lick before sucking it into his mouth. This pose is a little awkward but his smooth motions more than make up for that. You grab the backboard for some semblance of balance and give yourself completely to him, letting him overjoy you with perfectly calculated thrusts, angle just right to make you lose it all.

Joseph’s sucking your cock while fingerbanging you into oblivion, jolts of pleasure so strong and hot from the double the amount of stimulation you can’t keep yourself quiet. Gasps and moans leave your lips, you tremble over him, gripping the backboard of the bed so hard your fingers turn white. It’s insanely difficult not to skullfuck him, but you don’t want Joseph to choke to death, so backing into his fingers is as good as you can get.

You feel like you’re gonna burst, him pumping earnestly in an out of you in punishing rhythm, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing around your dick. This is impossibly sweetly painful, pressure in your groin maddening. Release is so close now, only a few more moves will finish you and Joseph stops completely, letting you out of his mouth to taunt you with hoarse strained rumble

\- “Ask me nicely if you want to get something.”

\- “P-please, Joseph, I can't… Fuck me already!”

\- “That's a good boy!

And he pulls four fingers out of you with obscene wet squelch. Your hole flutters at the loss of contact and stimulation, Joseph’s pushing you down to his lap and says in the same deep, raspy voice

\- “Ride me, baby.”

You’re happy to oblige. Ripping the package with your teeth, you roll the condom over him, and steady your body. Having more control taking him in you tease a little, rubbing his head between your asscheeks before slowly sinking onto it. Despite taking his fingers in and being stretched and lubed generously you can barely fit him, groaning at the burning stretch. He is so long and big, hard inside you, swollen head pushing against your prostate, making you clench around him. When you've finally fully seated your legs tremble, him filling you completely, the way you can hardly move. You pant like a dog, clutching his waist, hearing him curse under his breath, groan and whine.

\- “Oh Lord, you’re so tight! Robert, I won’t last long like this! Move, please!”

Tentatively rolling your hips you start slowly rocking into him, while his hands roam your body, left one settling on your thigh and right one gripping your cock. That makes you choke on your breath and gasps, muscles stiffening around him. He bucks into you, and a hard wave of painful pleasure hits your insides nearly making you scream. You’re not sure you gonna last too, this is too much too quickly.

Bobbing up and down, you ride him, head thrown back, mouth wide open, while he jerks you off, fluids movements in perfect sync with your rhythm, building your release up faster and faster. He’s close to, overwhelmed with your tightness and pace, crying out when you hit his pelvis on the way down and whimpering when you rise up. It’s fast, hard and insanely good, you know each other's bodies so well to be able to find that balance between almost coming and still going.

Tipping over first you see him bite his lower lip until blood seeps out before your eyes roll to the back of your head as you climax wildly, spilling all over him, convulsing hard, screaming, clenching around him as you ride it out. He is moaning under you, his grip on your hips painful, thrusting up, swelling inside you, following your release, coming copiously, hot spurts into your over-sensitive passage. Both of you are spent entirely, shaking and sweaty, you collapse over him, into the puddle of your own cum, and try to catch a breath, aftershocks so powerful you nearly pass out. He’s hugging and kissing you, murmuring something sweet, affectionate and gentle, almost loving. You try to reciprocate even though you’re muscles hurt from overexertion and tiredness consumed every cell in your body. With a drawn-out moan, he pulls out, lifting your body up and turns you both on the side to cuddle.

You leave before Joseph’s family arrives, the same way you came in, like a thief, ass sore and body aching, filthy yet satisfied, covering yourself with shredded clothing. At home, you take a long hot shower and smoke almost half of the pack thinking about what just happened.

Joseph's not who everyone thinks he is, but you know him now. You're both awful. You deserve each other. And you know it too. So when everything comes around, things have both changed and stayed the same. You still an embodiment of a human piece of shit and you’ve betrayed your friend, but that all-consuming loneliness backed off a bit. You’re gonna be miserable together, all three of you, at least you’ll not be alone doing that.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! Thank you for reading. Please, leave feedback so I can improve my writing skill.  
> Tumblr is [here](https://dannissa13.tumblr.com/), other works [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannissa/works). Have a nice day!


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